The Battle of Honor
by ElectricStarchild
Summary: When two swordsmen begin to quarrel, just how far will they go to prove each other wrong? And how much can the other Smashers take before they lose it? Note: NO IkexMarth WHATSOEVER.


**First SSB fic, oh yes!  
****I own none of the characters mentioned, nor do I own Super Smash Brothers.**

* * *

**It all began during a Team Brawl…**

"AETHER!!!"

Ike brought his sword to the ground, sending a frustrated Pit flying over the side of the Final Destination. The buff swordsman slung his mighty blade over his shoulder, grinning smugly. Only one more KO and the angel was done for. Unfortunately, he and his teammate were on their final stocks too. He turned his back on Pit to see how his teammate was doing.

"Falcon KICK!"

"Gaaaah!" A blue-haired swordsman was hit straight in the gut, and was sent sprawling back as crimson flames licked his regal blue cape.

Ike sighed. Marth was having waytoo much trouble trying to beat Captain Falcon. That had to be the ninth—

"KICK!"

"Aaaargh!"

…Scratch that – _tenth_ Falcon Kick that so-called prince took. If he took as much time brawling as he did fixing his hair, he wouldn't be in that fix. Heaving another exasperated sigh, Ike ambled over to his teammate's aid.

"Huah!" Captain Falcon jabbed at his opponent.

Marth just barely dodged yet another blow from the racer's speedy fists; however, enough was enough. He couldn't let some foolhardy blowhard take him down.

As another punch glanced off the hilt of his blade, he chuckled inwardly. He hadn't taken all those hits for nothing; by closely analyzing Falcon's moves, he'd figured out his attack pattern, making a counterattack much easier.

Captain Falcon punched at him again, but this time, the fist met thin air; Marth had easily sidestepped the blow. The swordsman bent his knees so his sword leveled itself with the racer's stomach. Grinning mirthlessly, Marth gracefully drew his sword back, preparing to unleash a mighty thrust--

"AETHER!!"

A sudden gold flash momentarily blinded him. He drew back and grimaced; his attack was ruined. He removed his forearm from his eyes to see who it was that interrupted his foolproof technique. The second he got a clear view, the corners of his mouth dropped.

Standing over a rather crushed-looking Captain Falcon was his flamboyant teammate, Ike. How dare that idiot ruin his plan?!

"You'll get no sympathy from me," Ike smirked. He turned to face Marth. "I saw you needed some help there, teammie."

Marth, however, didn't express much gratitude. "Hey! What was that?!"

Ike snorted. "Hmph. I save your buttocks from impending defeat, and that's the thanks I get?!"

"_Impending defeat?!_" Marth said incredulously. "I had it all under control until you _butted in!_"

Ike raised an eyebrow. "Under control? With that wimpy sword of yours??"

"_Wimpy?!!_" Marth fumed, unusually angry. "I'll have youknow, Falchion trumps all as the _Sword of Light!_ You have no idea how much skill and grace it took to overcome the obstacles I've encountered! It's elegant, refined—"

"It's _GAY,_" Ike said dryly. "Ragnell could just as easily snap that pitiful twig of yours."

Marth rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course that _log _that takes absolutely _no skill _to wield could stand a chance. Hah! Not likely. My Falchion could easily outmaneuver that lump of metal; it's simple, ugly, and brutish. JUST. LIKE. YOU."

"Why you—"

"ALL TROOPS, MOVE OUT!!" a voice declared.

Ike and Marth exchanged irritated glances. While they continued to argue, Pit had retrieved the Smash Ball, and they were now being assaulted by munchkins with bows.

"This…is…your…FAULT!" Marth managed to say between hits.

"My…fault?!" Ike protested.

The blows finally subsided. Despite both their damage levels well exceeding 100%, they continued to argue.

"Oh, now look what you've done," Marth spat.

"What I'VE done?! Let me tell you something, pretty boy…"

As the two continued to bicker, Captain Falcon and Pit exchanged confused glances.

"You think we should just let them be?" asked a worried and confused Pit.

Falcon shrugged. "Maybe. Or, we could take advantage of this and secure a win!"

Pit shrugged in agreement.

"If you had just knocked Pit out, we wouldn't in this mess," Marth snapped.

"Falcon…"

"Oh sure, like you getting your head handed to you really helps the situation," Ike retorted.

"_PAWNCH!!!_"

Ike flew off the stadium at improbable speed, and he lost his final life.

"Ha! Serves you ri—"

"_PAWNCH!_"

* * *

**..Later that day…**

The Brawl had ended, and the two feuding swordsmen walked wordlessly through the halls of the Smash Mansion. The tension between them was so thick, even Meta Knight steered clear of them.

"So, Marth," Ike said caustically, "what have we learned today, hmmm? Oh, I know! Vanity kills!"

"No skill…," Marth said under his breath.

"What did you say?!"

"You heard very well! NO. SKILL!"

"Oooh, I'd better look out, or big bad Marth's going to poke me with his long sword!"

"Call it what you may, but there is no way that a thickheaded brute like you could master such a unique, graceful repertoire."

"Uh-oh, Marth's using his fancy words," Ike snickered. "Any weakling can swing a flimsy sword like that. It takes true passion to master Ragnell's awesome power! Passion that someone like you couldn't possibly achieve!"

Marth stopped walking, his head bowed so that his hair cast a mysterious shadow over his eyes. He simply said, "Fine."

Ike stared at him. "Fine, what?"

"I will pose as you for one day, and will prove to you that even I could master a sword art that simple."

Ike smirked. "I accept your challenge! I'll master your sword art, starting tomorrow! Whoever gives out first loses!"

Grinning confidently, the two Fire Emblem warriors shook hands, turned their backs on one another, and walked in opposite directions…

_**THWACK!!**_

…straight into walls.

Marth caressed his face. "Give up yet?"

"No," Ike replied. "That didn't happen. That never happened."

"Agreed."

Avoiding the treacherous walls, the two valiant swordsmen walked to their respective rooms.

* * *

**The following morning…**

Breakfast time was always peaceful in the Smash Mansion. Not only was Crazy Hand a master chef, but the quiet atmosphere just seemed to bring everybody together.

At one table sat the Ice Climbers, Lucas, Ness, Kirby, Meta Knight, and Pit. Kirby was, not surprisingly, inhaling food nonstop, like a vacuum cleaner set on 'Obliterate'.

"It looks like Samus skipped out on breakfast again…," said Meta Knight with a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, you know her," Nana grinned knowingly. "She always wants her alone time!"

"Feh…playing with those gadgets of hers…"

"Don't pretend you're not interested in them," Popo said slyly. "I've seen you toying with her computer!"

The Star Warrior didn't respond. The Ice Climbers grinned triumphantly.

Lucas looked around. "Y'know, come to think of it, I don't see Marth or Ike either," he pointed out through a mouthful of omelets.

Ness glanced around the lunchroom, and sure enough, Lucas was right. In fact, none of the other smashers had seen either of the two swordsmen since the previous day.

Pit twirled his spork thoughtfully. "Maybe it has something to with that Brawl yesterday?" he mused.

"I think so," agreed Meta Knight. "Those glares they gave each other could've melted my sword."

Just then, the entrance to the cafeteria was theatrically slammed open. The sound of the double doors was like thunder as it roared through Kirby's pancakes.

A lone figure strode in, receiving many stares. He calmly strode over to the buffet and began fixing himself a plate.

Captain Falcon was the first to recognize him. "Hey, Ike!" he called out amiably. Patting a seat next to him, he continued, "Wanna join us?"

The man turned around. With his spiky blue hair, tattered cape, and monstrous sword, there was no mistaking it was Ike.

…Or was there?

Realization hit Red like a cold slap in the face. His eyes grew wide.

"Captain Falcon," the Pokémon trainer said slowly, "that's not Ike."

Suddenly, the figure spoke in an outrageous English accent, "Hello, comrades! 'Tis I, Ike Greil! I fight for my friends! Now prepare yourself!"

He reached out and arbitrarily smacked Ness with the flat of his blade, sending the psychic youth toppling from his chair.

"Ouch!" Ness wailed, clutching the top of his head. "Marth! What the heck was that for?!!"

It was indeed Marth; however, rather than wear his usual attire, he was dressed in Ike's clothing. He had even spiked his hair up to make room for the tattered headband.

Marth, the Ike-poser, smirked. "You'll get no sympathy from me. I gave you a fair warning! Now—"

The speech was cut short when the doors slammed open yet again. Another man with a sword flounced in. With an unnecessary flip of his hair, he announced, "Hello, everyone. No need to panic; Marth, the Altean prince, is here. Watch as I dazzle you with my _graceful_ skill!" He put unnecessary emphasis on the word 'skill'.

Meta Knight was bewildered. "Wait, wait, wait. HOLD. ON. Just _what _is going on here??"

He had a very good reason to be confused. Just as Marth came dressed as Ike, Ike donned a veritable Marth costume. He had flattened his hair and wore Marth's crown-like headpiece.

Ike replied, "We had a bit of an argument, and now I am going to prove to that arrogant idiot Marth that any simpleton could master such a weak sword art."

"But what does dressing up as one another have to do with mastering combat?" asked Toon Link.

"It helps us get in character," said Ike. "Plus, it shows just how _outrageous _this costume is!"

He donned his Marth-mentality as he gingerly held up the fabric of his blue cape. "Oh dear, it appears one of the stitches has fallen out of place! I must get my first-rate tailor to fix it for me; else I'd be unfit for battle!"

Marth countered, "Feh, I could care less about my looks; it doesn't matter, so long as I can thoroughly pummel my opponents into the ground! It doesn't matter if I fight cheaply; a win is a win!"

Before Ike could retort, Meta Knight intervened.

"Enough is enough," he declared. "I have the perfect way to settle this."

As this continued _ad infinitum_, Olimar was busy typing frantically on his laptop.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Samus lay prone on her bed as she clicked away on her state-of-the-art laptop. It wasn't that she didn't want to eat; she just had more alone time in the morning than any other part of the day, when all anyone thought about was who and when they were going to fight…Well, there were a few exceptions. Sure, Sheik was good company, but this was just more relaxing. And what better way to relax that Instant Messaging?

* * *

_{"ChozoHero" has signed on}_

ChozoHero: any1 there?

pluckinDomination7: hey there samus

ChozoHero: o hey there olimar I miss anything today?

pluckinDomination7: ur not gonna believe this - u know Marth & Ike?

ChozoHero: uhh yeah why?

pluckinDomination7: I guess they got in some sorta argument, and now they're trading places!

ChozoHero: seriously?

BoxofWeapons: ur kidding

pluckinDomination7: hey there snake u changed ur username

ChozoHero: yeah it's not 2Sexy4MahBox anymore

BoxofWeapons: no comment

pluckinDomination7: anyways, u guys should check this out 4 urselves b4 it gets outta hand

ChozoHero: sounds interesting

_{"ChozoHero" has signed off}_

BoxofWeapons: see u there olimar

_{"BoxofWeapons" has signed off}_

_{"pluckinDomination7" has signed off}_

* * *

**Shortly afterwards…**

The quarrel had moved from the dining room to the backyard. The smashers gathered around the feuding swordsmen in a semi-circle.

Marth made the first move. He grabbed a nearby log and threw it upwards. Grabbing Ragnell with both hands, he swung his arms and sliced the log straight down the middle. Splinters flew everywhere; it wasn't exactly a clean cut.

"See? Even a refined gentleman like me can perform one of your clumsy sword strikes," he said, discarding his Ike persona.

But Ike couldn't be defeated so easily. He too picked up a log and threw it forward. He lunged with Marth's sword and pierced the log clean through. The tip of the blade poked out the opposite end.

"Clumsy, my foot," Ike muttered. "Any warrior with any experience at all can put a sword through a log."

Marth whirled around and stared Ike straight in the eyes. He only said two words:

"TOP. TIER."

Meta Knight did a facepalm. "Not again…," he muttered.

Ike jabbed a finger in Marth's face. "Don't bring those up; they're lies. All lies. Tiers are for fools!"

Mario pinched his brow; he messed up the quote.

"Hi, everyone. What's new?" Samus asked, strolling into the yard.

"Samus, I need you to answer a question," Ike said gravely. "Am I, or am I not—"

Samus placed her palm in his face. "Don't bother. Olimar told me everything."

"Olimar?!" Marth and Ike said incredulously. "That quiet little midget?!"

Samus nodded. Olimar shrank deeper into the grass.

"And…?" the two swordsmen asked expectantly.

"Like all the others, I abstain."

"Quick thinking, Samus," Meta Knight sighed in relief. He'd hoped that after approximately 9,340 logs, one of their resolves would waver. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Long story short, it would be a very cold winter this year.

Crazy Hand apparently picked up on this as well. He had just floated outside to find innumerable stacks of broken firewood strewn across the grass.

"Guh…aaugh…," the hand spluttered as he hovered motionless.

"Uh…Crazy? You okay?" asked Fox cautiously.

"FOR THE LOVE OF CHEESE IN A BOX, LOOK WHAT YOU DID! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG IT TOOK TO GET ALL THAT??!!" Crazy Hand wailed in his raucous voice. "NOW WHAT'RE WE SUPPOSED TO USE FOR ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS?!"

Meta Knight rolled his eyes. "Calm down, before you get another heart attack," he said casually. It was typical of the hand to miss the point.

"HEART ATTACK?!!" Crazy Hand exclaimed incredulously. "I'LL SHOW YOU A HEART ATTACK, METTY!"

And with that, he exploded. A burst of light and sound filled the air as confetti spewed from the blast.

Snake exasperatedly picked a strip of green paper out of his hair. "I really hate it when he does that…"

* * *

**Time passes…A few weeks later…**

No one could stand it anymore. Every time someone saw Marth or Ike approaching one another, they made themselves hidden, careful to avoid the line of fire. Originally, their little argument actually meant something – it had at least a shred of dignity. Now, it was reduced to pitiful remarks like:

"Hello, I'm Marth, and I'm a weak, prissy, tier-worshipping numbnuts!"

Most of the smashers knew that in order to put an end to this nonsense, one of the swordsmen would have to win. However, the wiser smashers knew a better way to stop the feud. One smasher, in particular, knew just how to resolve this predicament.

He planned to gather his crew at lunch. The first member was Meta Knight.

He found the Star Warrior staring at his toast. Leaning over, he whispered, "Meet me in my room at 1 o'clock. Don't ask questions."

Meta Knight just stared at him; they were odd words coming from a little guy like himself. Okay, he could have reworded that to make it sound less creepy, but he had no choice…It had to be done.

* * *

**1:00**

"So, he told you guys to come too, huh?" Meta Knight said.

Ness, Samus, Zelda, Olimar, the Ice Climbers, Jigglypuff, and Lucario all nodded. They were almost afraid to enter the room; who knew what lurked inside? Well, besides the one that called them.

Heaving a sigh, Meta Knight pushed the door open, and the nine smashers walked inside. The room was dimly lit, and all they could see was a lone figure sitting at a wooden desk, his fingers steepled under his chin.

"Glad you could make it," the figure said quietly. "We've got some serious matters to attend t—AAAARGHH!!"

He was cut off mid-sentence when Nana decided to turn up the lights to maximum. As white light flooded the room, his guests noticed that he had fallen off his chair.

"What'd you do that for?!" he screeched. "Do you know how long I've been sitting in here for?!"

Nana replied, "Well it was so dark in here, I nearly tripped over Popo. Besides, the tough guy act really doesn't work for you, Lucas."

Lucas grinned sheepishly as he picked himself off the ground. "Well, y'know, I thought it suited the mood…But yeah, it felt pretty unnatural."

"Okay, okay," Meta Knight sighed, "theatrics notwithstanding, this is a serious issue. It's not like you to invite us into your room, and so curtly, at that. So spill."

Lucas nodded. "Okay everyone, you all know of Ike and Marth's...um, _problem_."

At the mention of this, everyone else groaned.

"But I have a solution that I'm sure will work! I just need your help."

He motioned for everyone to gather around his desk, and he began to explain.

The plan was quite simple: the smashers were to get Marth and Ike and bring them to Lucas, who would take it from there. No one but Lucas knew what kind of psychic mind-trick the youth would pull, but they all knew never to underestimate him.

"All right, everyone knows the plan?" Lucas said.

Samus frowned. "Are you really sure this is going to work? I mean really—"

"Helping or hindering, Samus?" Lucas curtly cut in.

"Sorry, sorry."

* * *

Marth strolled down the hall aimlessly. He had changed back to his much more comfortable clothes and retrieved his sword from Ike, so everything was hunky-dory.

He stopped walking and lowered his eyes. Maybe he was taking this too far? After all, it was a given fact that one of the most eternal questions was: Which is better – speed or strength?

His musing was stopped short when he nearly tripped over Popo.

"Oh hey there, Popo," he said distantly. "Funny seeing you alone; where's Nana?"

The Ice Climber only grinned in response. With astonishing speed, he reached out and grabbed Marth by his belt, forcing him to bend over.

"Hey! What the—"

"NANA! NOW!!"

At the blue Climber's cue, Nana jumped from her hiding place with her mallet held high. Before Marth could react, she brought it down as hard as she could on Marth's cranium. The swordsman crumpled to the ground.

Nana furrowed her brow. "Popo, did we really have to do that? It just didn't feel right smacking poor ol' Marth upside the head like that!"

Popo threw her a reassuring thumbs-up. "C'mon, it's for the best after all! Mission accomp—"

"Owww…Nana, when did you get so strong?! Ouch…," Marth mumbled as he picked himself off the ground.

"Yikes!" Popo yelped. "Code Red! Code Red! Switch to Plan B!!"

Nana stared at him. "What's 'Code Red'? What's 'Plan B'?!"

Popo hurriedly stuck his palm in Marth's face. Suddenly, a flurry of frost and snow burst from his glove and overtook the swordsman point-blank. Within seconds, he was totally encased in a block of ice.

Nana's eyebrow twitched. "You froze him."

"Yep."

She cuffed her twin over the head. "Are you freakin' kidding me?!"

"Ouch! C'mon, the situation called for it! It's not like he'd go if he wanted to!"

"But how're we supposed to get him to Lucas? We drag him?!"

"Better than what I had in mind…"

* * *

**Later…**

"Great job, guys! You got Ike!" Lucas said approvingly.

Jigglypuff and Olimar nodded. Taking the swordsman by surprise, Jigglypuff lured Ike into a deep sleep. He would eventually wake up to find himself tied to a chair.

"Heave!" "Ho!" "Heave!" "Ho!" "Heave!" "Heave!" "Ho!"

"Does anyone else hear that?" asked Ness.

Sure enough, the source of the alternating voices was none other than the heavily-panting Ice Climbers, who brought with them a large – _very _large – block of ice.

"Well for the love of all things good, why the frick did you freeze him?!" Ness practically screamed.

"Plan A didn't work!" Popo retorted.

"Never mind, never mind!" interrupted Samus. "Zelda! Go get the hairdryer, so we can unfreeze Marthy the Snowman."

"Oog…What happened? Where am I?" Ike asked groggily to no one in particular.

"Why, you're in my room!" Lucas grinned. "And with your _favorite_ person, too!"

"Favorite person…?" Ike stared across the room. The only ones there were himself, Lucas, and a mysterious figure tied to a chair on the opposite side of the room. The light was too dim to figure out who it was.

Ike squinted, his eyes straining to discern the figure. Once he did, his face was set in a snarl.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no nooooo," he protested. "There is no way—"

"Hey! Where am I?!" Marth asked.

"You're stuck in a room with me and this little kid!" Ike snarled. Turning towards Lucas, he added, "Sorry, but the 'dire situation' look just isn't working."

"Man! I can't get a break around here…," Lucas huffed, turning up the lights.

"Okay, Lucas, what's the meaning of this?!" Marth asked indignantly.

Lucas explained, "Well, everyone's pretty much fed up with this little contest of yours. No one likes it one bit, no sir. Not. At. All. I mean, they _really _hate it. Like, _really, really _hate it. If the contest was a big fat pig, everyone would stab it, skin it alive, gouge out its eyes, and cut off its feet. _Then _they would—"

"Point taken, Lucas," Marth said quickly.

"Okay, you two we need to fix this _now,_" Lucas declared. "Olimar, untie them please."

Olimar nodded. With a blow of his special 'Pikmin Whistle', his pikmin were hard at work untying the two swordsmen. The very second they were untied, they practically leapt at each other, eyes ablaze.

Lucas said calmly, "Now, I want you to do as I say, and everything will be all right."

Ike glared at him. "You knocked us out, tied us to chairs, and left us to attack one another? What makes you think I'll trust you?!"

"C'mon, pleeeeeeease?" Lucas pretended to beg.

Ike rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"Great!" Lucas beamed. "Now hug."

An awkward silence hung in the air. Marth's eye twitched involuntarily.

Ike rapidly turned on his heels. "Nope, no way. Screw this. I'm leaving."

But the doorway was blocked by a grave Lucario, his palms threateningly radiating blue aura.

"We won't let you go until you do," Lucas said. "Trust me; I know what I'm doing."

Ike and Marth exchanged pained glances. Very, very slowly, they walked towards one another, and each awkwardly draped an arm around the other. They instantly shuddered and drew back their arms as fast as they could.

Lucas grinned. "Now, don't you feel better?"

"_NO!!!_" the two swordsmen yelled in unison.

"That's what I thought. But did you notice how you both felt awkward?"

"Um…yes?" said Marth uncertainly.

"Well, that shows that you two have more in common than you might think! So what if your styles are a little different? It's what's on the _inside _that counts."

Ike sighed. "Okay, Lucas, don't take this the wrong way, but that was really, _really _corny."

Lucas slapped his palm to his forehead. "Um, let's rephrase that: You're both swordsmen, right? And all swordsmen have their own code of honor, right? So arguing like this is just showing that your honor doesn't mean beans to you! Is that how you want to be?! Do you want to stoop so low that you're disgracing yourselves just to prove the other wrong?! You're better than that!"

Marth awkwardly scratched his head. "I guess not."

"It's more than that," Lucario continued. "You might think that winning this argument will help you gain respect, hmm? Well, you're wrong. In fact, you've _lost _respect, shouting back and forth like a couple of immature younglings! No offense, Lucas."

"None taken," the blonde boy replied.

Ike shrugged. "I guess there are better, more dignified ways to settle arguments like this…What say, Marth? Comrades?"

Marth smiled. "Comrades."

The two warriors put away their swords and shook hands.

Lucas glanced to Lucario. "What do you think?" he asked.

The aura Pokémon nodded. "Their auras have changed. They're both amiable shades of blue."

Now content, Lucas walked out of the room.

* * *

"So, was 'Operation: PK Therapy' a success?" asked Samus.

Lucas happily nodded. "Yep! And we didn't have to do Plan B!"

"What's 'Plan B'?" Zelda asked curiously.

Ness answered, "A one-on-one cage match with Bowser. But here's the catch: they would have to use each other's moveset!"

"That might have worked…," Zelda mused.

Samus chuckled inwardly. "Can you imagine Marth running across the field shouting, "Aether! Aether!"

"He'd look like a fool," Meta Knight concurred. "Try to imagine Ike actually moving _quickly._"

"_We can hear you!!_" two irritated voices shouted from the opposite room.

* * *

**Believe it or not, this is based on a true story. It was between me (I fence epee), and my friend (who fences foil). We argued over which required more skill. Eventually, my other friend stepped in and put a stop to it. Regardless, I STILL won. *denial***

**Well, what do you think? Review!**


End file.
